m. Then I turned to look at that corporal yonder, as he crossed
to halt a man on the east side, and at sound of his voice this fellow at
the cab started suddenly and ran, crouching in the shadow, back to the
side of the tavern there. It looks suspicious."

"Come with me, two of you," says the lieutenant, quickly, and, followed
by a brace of his guard, he crosses the street, and his lantern is seen
dancing around the dark gallery. The colonel, meantime, accosts the
driver:

"What took that man away so suddenly? Who is he?"

"I don't know, sir. I never seen him afore. He stopped me right here to
ask who the gentleman was I was drivin'. I told him your name, 'cause I
heard it, and he started then kinder queer, but came back and said 'twas
the citizen he meant; and the boss here had just told me that was Doctor
Warren, and that his daughter was up-stairs. Then the feller jumped like
he was scared; the guard had just come round the corner, and when he
saw them he just put for the barn."

"Is there a barn back there?" asks the colonel. The driver nods assent.
A moment's silence, and then the colonel continues: "I want to see you
in the morning. Wait for me here at the hotel about nine o'clock.
Meantime say nothing about this, and you'll lose nothing by holding your
tongue. What was his face like--this man I mean?"

"Couldn't see it, sir. It was dark, and he had a beard all over it, and
wore a black-felt hat--soft; and he had a cloak something like yours,
that was wrapped all over his shoulders."

"Remember, I want to see you here in the morning; and hold your tongue
till then."

With that the colonel hastens off on the trail of the searching-party.
He sees the lantern glimmering among some dark buildings beyond the
side-gallery, and thither he follows. To all appearances the spot is
almost a _cul de sac_ of wooden barns, board-fences, and locked doors,
except for a gateway leading to the yard behind the tavern. The search
has revealed no trace of the skulker, and the lieutenant holds his lamp
aloft as he examines the gate and peers over the picket fence that
stands barely breast-high and bars them out.

"May have gone in here," he mutters. "Come on!"

But the search here only reveals half a dozen avenues of escape. The man
could have gone back through several doors into the building itself, or
eastward, through some dilapidated yards, into a street that was
uninfested by patrols, and dark as the bottom of a well. "I